When life gives you lemons...
I googled this phrase the other day, wondering how it actually ended, and as quite often with the internet, I wasn't disappointed. If you have a citrus fetish, or feeling a little thirsty, you're better off drinking a glass of lemonade than reading this article. Maybe not.
Yahoo, which has deigned itself to be my default search engine by some mystical alignment of the stars (there is a joke about love hiding in this sentence somewhere) and a measure of laziness, declared some possible endings to this phrase, which have no roots in literary fact, but are nonetheless absolutely profound. I shall list some of my favourites below, along with the philosophical significance they don't hold in my (your) life.
1. When life gives you lemons, make grape juice.
On first glance, you'll probably dismiss this as a waste of a stranger's time and grey matter (and your own), but pause just a moment and you'll realise that grape juice might just bring all the boys to the yard, after all. But from a philosophical stand point, and this is what this piece is all about, anon #1 is encouraging you to not just think out of the box, but to rid yourself of the box entirely, which is not bad advice entirely. Refer to Schrodinger's cat for reasoning. Also, if you succeeded in making grape juice from lemons, then congratulations, you just made Prof, McGonagall a very happy person. You have received an 'O' in your OWL.
2. When life gives you lemons, start a lemon orchard and then use all of your lemon money to buy a lime orchard, beginning your citrus monopoly.
Quite straightforward financial advice. From an anonymous source. On the internet. Nothing can go wrong. Nothing. But if your mind is set on potential financial suicide, then go on, I'll prepare a convincing noose. What anon #2 has concealed so very well in mundane finance, is a motivational speech, which touches on exploring your potential as a citrus magnate, which fits right in with every child's dream of infinite lemonade. If the words touch and child in the same sentence made you feel uncomfortable, you might want to see a psychiatrist. Immediately.
All citrus fruit investments are subject to market risk. Please do not read anything on this article before investing.
3. When life gives you melons, you have dyslexia.
You might have read that right, which means there's something wrong with you. Or you might have read that wrong, which means you might have dyslexia. Confused? Me too. But I'm writing this piece. Anon #3 is quite the social activist, what with slipping dyslexia awareness into a joke. Or he/she has quite a sick sense of humor, because how makes fun of dyslexics? Oops.
That concludes our brief (but profitable?) foray into the realm of citrus philosophy. Thank you for spending, what Word Counter says should take you two minutes to read. Not accounting for dyslexia. Oops.
... you might want to thank your dealer, because that was some quality stuff. Wink.
Quite straightforward financial advice. From an anonymous source. On the internet. Nothing can go wrong. Nothing. But if your mind is set on potential financial suicide, then go on, I'll prepare a convincing noose. What anon #2 has concealed so very well in mundane finance, is a motivational speech, which touches on exploring your potential as a citrus magnate, which fits right in with every child's dream of infinite lemonade. If the words touch and child in the same sentence made you feel uncomfortable, you might want to see a psychiatrist. Immediately.
All citrus fruit investments are subject to market risk. Please do not read anything on this article before investing.
3. When life gives you melons, you have dyslexia.
You might have read that right, which means there's something wrong with you. Or you might have read that wrong, which means you might have dyslexia. Confused? Me too. But I'm writing this piece. Anon #3 is quite the social activist, what with slipping dyslexia awareness into a joke. Or he/she has quite a sick sense of humor, because how makes fun of dyslexics? Oops.
That concludes our brief (but profitable?) foray into the realm of citrus philosophy. Thank you for spending, what Word Counter says should take you two minutes to read. Not accounting for dyslexia. Oops.
... you might want to thank your dealer, because that was some quality stuff. Wink.
